Anna's Dress

by London Casey

  I follow Anna and watch as she takes the apple outside. She looks around at the sky and then crouches. She places the apple on the sidewalk. Right in the middle. She stands and waves her hands at… nothing.

  It’s getting dark.

  So I tell her to come inside. This town isn’t exactly safe. It’s better than where we used to live though. No gunshots. No people screaming in pain. Or maybe those funny noises coming from the bedroom. It’s quiet but a scary quiet. Aunt Beth tells us all the time to be careful. Whatever that means.

  I get Anna on the porch. She grabs my hand. She smiles. She’s got a strange smile though. Like a bad kid smile. I’ve seen those smiles. On other kids. Kids that do really bad things. I hope Anna doesn’t become a bad kid.

  I asked her what she was doing with the apple. She asks if I can keep a secret. I tell her of course I can. I have to keep her secrets. All of them. She looks to me. She needs me. I’m like her mother now. Not Aunt Beth. It’s confusing for me. Almost as confusing as why this one girl in class named Sarah left the room, saying her belly was bleeding. She came back an hour later in a different pair of pants. Why? If she was really bleeding from her stomach she should have gone to the hospital.

  Anyway, Anna asks if we can sit.

  So we sit on the top step of the porch.

  I ask her again about the apple. She finally tells me what it means. That she read a story about a magical apple that brought someone back to life. That a princess was cursed by a troll. And that princess went to sleep. She died! The princess was dead. And there was a prince who was upset. Really sad. So he said he would do anything to save her. A witch who didn’t like the troll that killed the princess told the prince there was a way to save her. They needed a special apple from a special apple tree. The witch cast a spell on the apple. Once the princess tasted the apple she would come alive.

  I listen to this story and it makes no sense. My guess is that Anna’s brain picked up on a few stories and twisted them together. But I let her talk. I let her tell me the entire story which ended with the princess coming to life and the witch turning the troll into a statue which she then put right outside her front door.

  I ask her why she was doing this with the apple.

  Know what she says back?

  She says she hopes our mother finds the apple and eats it. Even though she’s dead, she could find it and eat it. Then come back to life.

  I don’t know what to say to Anna.

  Right then, Aunt Beth comes outside and says we look cute sitting next to each other.

  What happens then is that animals start taking the apples. Every night Anna leaves one outside. The next morning it’s gone. Our mother never comes back. Aunt Beth thinks Anna is eating apples. And I know the truth, the secrets.

  A few months later… Anna becomes one of the bad kids.

  I sat on the floor in the room, the wine bottle in my hand. My phone still playing the music. But I just stared off into space for a few minutes. I glanced back at the closet and shook my head.

  “One thing at a time,” I whispered.

  I grabbed the trash bag and peeked inside. I had thrown a bunch of papers and stuff… Overdue bills. Warnings about her credit cards and cell phone. Even some legal stuff. Parking tickets. Speeding tickets. Guys numbers scratched onto paper napkins.

  But then there was something I hadn’t seen before. A folded up picture. I plucked it from the trash bag and unfolded it.

  I covered my mouth.

  “She kept it,” I whispered.

  Of all the pictures she could have kept. All the pictures I tried to save throughout the years. This was the one picture Anna kept.

  The picture of she and Evan at the dance I was supposed to go to.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  (A Picture Worth a Phone Call)

  NOW

  (Evan)

  I left the full bottle of beer on the table and walked outside the shop.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “I just have something for you.”

  Her words were a little slurred.

  I sighed.

  “You’re drunk, Dena. Are you alone?”

  “Not if you count Anna’s ghost,” she said and snorted.

  Fuck.

  “Please don’t do anything dumb,” I said.

  “Like what? Grab the keys to my car. Wrap it around a tree?”

  “Jesus, Dena,” I said. “What the… just tell me what you found.”

  “Come and get it, Evan,” she said. “I know you want it. Keep it locked away with all those memories of you and her together.”

  I gritted my teeth. I told myself to tread carefully here. Adena was alone. She was emotional. Drinking. Obviously going through Anna’s stuff.

  I couldn’t help but wonder where the hell her friends were. Why any of them would leave Adena alone like this. Then again, they couldn’t take care of her twenty-four-seven.

  I ran a hand through my hair and looked to my truck.

  “Where are you right now?”

  “Home,” Dena said.

  “Dena…”

  “I’m in her room,” she said. “And I found something for you. You, Evan. It’s always been about you.”

  “Dena, promise me you’re going to stay right there,” I said. “If you do that, I will get into my truck right now and drive to your house.”

  “Are you going to carry me to bed again? Sleep on the floor next to me? Make me coffee in the morning? Huh?”

  “Dena, just stay there. And please tell me what you found.”

  “I found a picture,” she said.

  “A picture? Of what?”

  “You and Anna.”

  “Of…”

  I heard Dena suck in a breath. She was crying.

  Shit.

  I started to jog toward my truck.

  Then she said, “She’s wearing the dress I bought to wear to be with you.”

  I had no idea what that meant.

  But I was going to find out.

  I drove like there was a fire behind me, chasing me down. Ironically, I was the one driving right into the fire, wasn’t I? Funny how after all these years both Adena and Anna turned out to be the fire starters in my life. Just in different ways. Anna caught my attention. Adena set my heart on fire.

  When I finally got to the house, I ran from the truck to the porch and jumped up all three steps in one shot. I barreled through the front door and did a one second scan of the house. Everything looked normal. I heard the sound of music coming from upstairs.

  I took the steps three at a time and turned to go down the hallway and saw the light from Anna’s bedroom. That’s where I found Adena. Right where she said she was. A small sense of relief washed over me as she at least stayed put.

  When she saw me she lifted her arm up, a wine bottle in her hand. “Want some?”

  “You can’t drink this shit,” I said and grabbed the bottle from her.

  “Why not?”

  I put the wine bottle on the dresser and then crouched down before Adena. “Sweetheart, don’t you remember that time at Scott’s? When you came to his party? You were hanging with the wine geeks. And you drank way too much and got wrecked. I had to hold your hair back while you puked off his back porch.”

  Adena looked at me and smiled. “You remember that?”

  “Of course I do. We made a deal that night. No more wine for you.”

  She laughed a little. “Evan… you know Anna got so mad at me that night she didn’t talk to me for a week…”

  “I know,” I said. “So why are you drinking wine tonight?”

  “I was trying to be a woman.”

  “What?” I asked, laughing. “What are you…”

  “Here,” Adena said. She flicked her wrist and a picture came flying at me. “Take this. Found this for you. I’m going to clean this room out and change it around. And then I’ll have three spare bedrooms. Boom. Look at me now. Right? Three empty fucking rooms.”

  I di
dn’t look at the picture. I inched toward Adena. “Hey. I know this is hard. You don’t have to do this alone. You don’t have to live here either, Dena. You could sell…”

  “Oh, stop it,” she said. “Everyone tells me that. Stop telling me what to do.”

  “Right,” I said. I rubbed my jaw. I looked at the picture. “Shit…”

  It was me and Anna. At the fucking prom. That stupid ass dance. I only went because the guys were going. And because Anna begged me to go. After everything that happened between us, I was sort of pulling away from her the best I could. I knew the dances were the kinds of things that made girls like Anna go crazy. So I went with her. She said she had the perfect dress and had been working to buy it. I figured if we stayed together, I could keep her out of trouble. Plus, I had heard a rumor that Adena was going. Which was good. She should have been there. It was her prom, too.

  Adena didn’t go to the dance. Anna got drunk. The rest is history.

  “You called me because of this?” I asked. “A stupid picture?”

  “A stupid picture,” Adena said. Tears filled her eyes. “Fuck you, Evan. You know what? I fucking hate you. I hate your guts.”

  My eyes went wide. “Really? Why?”

  Adena wrestled to get to her feet. She swayed left to right, putting her hands out to keep her balance. She stumbled to the dresser and turned the crappy music on her phone off. I hated that poppy nonsense stuff. More so because it reminded me of Adena. She loved listening to that stuff.

  I was still crouched as I looked up at her.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “That was my fucking dress, Evan,” Adena said, a tear falling from her eye. “That was my dress. My dance. And you were supposed to be my date. And she stole it all!”

  Before I could say anything, Adena stutter stepped out of the room, leaving me behind.

  I looked at the picture.

  I swallowed hard.

  I felt my lip curl.

  Then I whispered, “What the fuck is she talking about?”

  I heard a thud sound which was a dead giveaway as to where Adena had gone. Right to the bathroom. The door was open but the light wasn’t on. I turned the light on and Adena sat on the closed toilet, her face in her hands.

  I looked at the picture again, shaking my head, and tucked it into my back pocket.

  “Sweetheart, what’s going on?” I asked.

  Adena gasped for a breath and looked up at me. “I don’t know what to do anymore, Evan.”

  “Anymore? What do you mean?”

  “I lost everything because of her. For her. And now she’s gone. I’m left holding the bag.”

  “I don’t see anything in your hands, Dena.”

  “Fuck you. Don’t be a prick right now, Evan.”

  “Dena…” I walked toward her. I reached down and touched her face. “What happened with the dress? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “That was my dress,” she said. “It sounds so stupid now, Evan.” She laughed, crying, turning her head away. Using my pointer finger, I pulled her back to staring up at me. “I’m crying over a fucking dress from how many years ago?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” I said. “It matters to you. You never got to tell your side of the story, Dena. Any of the stories. I’m here. I want to hear everything.”

  “Too late,” she said. “You’re here because she’s-”

  “Because of you,” I said. “You don’t want to hear my excuses, Dena. Remember? And I’m not here to talk about me. You handed me a picture from a dance that had nothing to do with my life. Okay? You want the truth? She begged me to go. I went to keep her ass out of trouble. I secretly hoped you would have been there. Goddamn, I envisioned you in a dress, Dena. Fuck. But you weren’t there.”

  “She stole my dress,” Adena said. “There I go, sounding crazy again.”

  I crouched down in front of her. “If you’re crazy, sweetheart, then I’m fucking insane. So what do we do here? I’m not leaving. You want me out of here? Call the fucking cops. Go ahead. Then you explain to Tommy what’s happening here.”

  She just stared at me. I swore she wanted to smile. But she didn’t.

  “I worked my ass off,” Adena said. I wasn’t going to lie about it - her being drunk right now was actually a good thing. Being drunk meant the truth. Not the story truth but the soul truth. “I babysat so much… remember the Cramer family?”

  “Yeah. The rich family that broke apart. She was a drunk. He fucked another woman.”

  “I worked for them. They loved me. I think I had a crush on him. Gross now. But whatever. Even when they divorced, I just kept working. Any job I could get. I wanted this one dress, Evan. I was doing everything wrong though. Buy the dress before the date. That’s dumb. But I had a plan.” Adena leaned toward me. Her mouth inches from mine. “A secret plan.” She whispered. I smelled the wine on her breath. Her lips were stained a maroon color from the wine.

  She looked delicious. I hated wine but I’d taste it off her lips for the rest of my life and die happy.

  “What was the secret plan, Dena?” I whispered.

  She quickly stood up.

  Now I was eye level with a silver button on her jeans. I made fists. My fingers tingled, wanting to flick that button open. Fuck that… I could do it with my mouth. I could open her jeans with my mouth and my hands could grab the side and gently tug…

  I swallowed hard, growling under my breath, and stood up.

  Adena shut the bathroom door. A mirror hanging on the back of the door rattled and rocked left to right a few times.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I worked. I bought the dress. Okay? With cash. I had to hide that cash because Anna stole from us. She stole from everyone…”

  I nodded. “I know.”

  I couldn’t tell you how many times I’d have cash in my middle console and when I gave Anna a ride that cash would magically disappear.

  “She stole the dress, Evan,” Adena said.

  “Stole the dress?” I asked.

  “Yes. You asked her to go. She said yes. I worked. I bought a dress. She had no dress. But she had a date. I had a dress. But I had no date. Need I say more?”

  “Dena… I didn’t…”

  She turned and put her hands to her stomach. “She always told me I was too fat. For my clothes. For boys. For the dress. Everything. She would just take her clothes off and I never understood how being that unhealthy and skinny was attractive to boys. And I would stand here and look at myself. Hate myself for being fat.”

  Jesus Christ…

  “Dena, no,” I whispered. “You’re not… fat. Don’t ever say that. Don’t ever think that.”

  I felt the anger boiling inside me. For everything I had wanted to say to Adena I had some shit I wanted to say to Anna. I’d never get that chance with Anna but I had Adena. And I had no reason to believe that Adena was lying.

  But screw all that shit right now.

  I stepped up behind Adena. I looked at her reflection as she looked at herself.

  “You’re fucking beautiful, Dena,” I said.

  “Stop, Evan. I don’t need that right now. There’s a lot I need… but that? No.”

  I gritted my teeth. I could go on for hours about her subtle curves. How her figure didn’t need to be like some rail. That she wasn’t in high school. That none of it mattered. That the way her hips curved out, making a c on the left and a backward c on the right just showed her womanly figure. The way her ass filled out her jeans. The curve of her ass that gave way to her long legs.

  But talk was cheap. Words were forever thrown into the air and faded like a cold breath in winter.

  I gently placed my hands to her waist. My hands instantly caught fire. That heat shot through my body, making me fight back my deepest and feral urges as I held her.

  I pulled at her, letting Dena’s back crash to my chest. My hands slid around, finding her hands. I didn’t move my head, my eyes locked to her reflection. I saw
the way her cheeks turned red. Her eyes wide. Her lips parted, shivering.

  There were no words though. Not a fucking sound other than her breathing.

  I made her breathe fast, heavy, cutting through that long standing tension as my fingers interlocked with hers. But I didn’t come all this way to just hold hands. Fuck that. Adena was beautiful and had always been beautiful. Nobody told her that. Not even me. That was my fault. I would never make that mistake again…

  I pulled at her hands with mine.

  I lowered my face down to her hair, smelling her. My mouth was next to her ear.

  Now it was time to talk. Her hands were at her sides. My hands touched her stomach. My left hand inched down, my thumb teasing as I slipped it into the front pocket of her jeans. My right hand slipped under the bottom of her shirt, fingers touching warm, bare skin.

  “You’re fucking beautiful, Dena,” I whispered. “You’ve always been beautiful.”

  “Shut up, Evan,” Adena said. “Please… just… shut up…”

  She put her head back to my chest as my right hand slid up her body. I loved feeling her. The real her. Her real body. As I moved over the swell of her breast, my other hand tugged at her pocket and I spun her around.

  I couldn’t fucking take it anymore.

  She was now facing me, no longer looking at the reflection of herself in the mirror. No longer letting her heart and brain twist the beauty that really showed and convinced her that it was anything less than that.

  She was staring at me. And I didn’t fucking lie. My face. My racing heart. My hand, touching at her side, then sliding up, my thumb against her covered breast.

  She took a shuddering breath and her lips moved, teasing me to kiss her.

  Not yet, sweetheart.

  I moved my hand back over her breast. I cupped her tight. She let out a breathless whimper.

  That’s when I kissed her.

  Chapter Twenty-Three